


Indulgence

by janescott



Category: One Direction
Genre: Barebacking, Established Relationship, Hair-pulling, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 19:56:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2321426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janescott/pseuds/janescott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry rides Zayn while Zayn pulls Harry's hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by magenta and inspired by Harry Styles' glorious long locks. And this gif https://38.media.tumblr.com/98708ae50c996177b9ef4290013b0f15/tumblr_nb73qkEjQm1sr8ofxo1_500.gif

Zayn thinks he’s pretty used to the idea of money now. He can buy his mum a house; write a sizeable cheque for charity and not blink; buy whatever car he wants, even though he still can’t drive.

Luxury, he thinks, sprawling out on the suite’s wide, welcoming couch. He’s getting used to luxury, to the finer things. And that - that’s no bad thing, for a boy who grew up in Bradford, with his parents and sisters clinging hard to the edges of not-quite-poor some weeks.

Some months.

He tilts his head back and stares up at the fancy chandelier in the middle of the room. It’s light is kind of soft and diffuse, yellow and comforting. Zayn blinks slowly, but sits up when he hears the bathroom door open.

Harry comes out in a cloud of steam from the shower. He’s rubbing at his hair with a towel, and he’s completely naked otherwise. Zayn sits and lets his eyes roam over the length of him - of Harry’s long, long legs, and lean torso; his arm muscles casually flexing as he rubs at his hair. 

Teasing himself a little, Zayn lets his eyes skitter around Harry’s dick and focuses on his hips instead, on his ridiculous laurel wreath tattoos and the lean cut of them. 

Zayn’s used to the trappings of luxury now - or, at least, he’s getting there, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to having Harry like this.

He licks his lips and presses a hand down over his own cock, starting to fill out just watching as Harry dumps the towel, quirking an eyebrow when he sees what Zayn’s doing, before sliding on to Zayn’s lap, settling his legs on either side of Zayn’s hips.

It’s like everything all at once, Zayn thinks vaguely, as Harry kisses him, slow and sweet at first, his mouth closed and warm against Zayn’s own lips.

Like … mansions, and champagne and … Bentleys, he thinks vaguely as Harry licks at his bottom lip, and Zayn sighs as he opens his mouth, settling his hands on Harry’s hips and absently tracing over the long cut of them with his thumbs.

Harry’s hair is still damp, and a drop of water trickles on to Zayn’s neck, making him shiver. 

He lifts up one hand and tugs lightly at an errant curl that’s resting against Harry’s neck. He winds it around his finger and tugs lightly on it until Harry moans into his mouth.

Harry breaks the kiss and bites lightly at Zayn’s neck. Harry’s skin is warm and his hair is springing back into unruly curls and Zayn can’t get enough.

He tugs on the curl again and Harry groans against Zayn’s neck, his voice sounding low and rough already.

“What d’you want babe? What do you need?”

“Want to ride you,” Harry says, his lips against the sensitive skin of Zayn’s neck. “Need to feel you, need you - “

Zayn lets the curl he’s been playing with go, and digs his fingers gently into the tangle of hair, drying slowly in a riot against the base of Harry’s skull. He tugs on this harder, winding his fingers around thick tangles and through heavy curls as Harry stops babbling and takes a breath. He’s still moving against Zayn, rolling his hips and shifting closer and closer. 

Zayn glances down and Harry’s hard, his cock thick against his stomach, small beads of pre-come gathering at the tip. Zayn tugs at Harry’s hair again, and runs his free hand down Harry’s back, running his fingers over the bones of Harry’s spine.

Harry shivers under his hands, his body giving over to slight tremors every time Zayn tugs at his hair, or digs his blunt nails into the curve of Harry’s back.

He lets his hand travel over the slight curve of Harry’s arse and groans when he realises - “Did you get yourself ready for me? Finger-fuck yourself in the bathroom?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I did,” Harry whispers, pecking and biting at Zayn’s lips, at his neck - at any part of Zayn he can reach. Zayn pulls on Harry’s hair harder, and pulls him in closer, and they’re kissing again, deep and filthy and long, as Harry fumbles with Zayn’s t-shirt, his hands warm and restless against Zayn’s skin.

Zayn’s cock is straining against his jeans, and he needs to get them off _now_.

He helps Harry scramble his shirt off, and then his jeans and pants are on the floor and he’s groaning as he reaches out for Harry, pulling him in again, needing, needing Harry’s skin under his hands, needing the way Harry groans when Zayn pulls his hair, needing … 

“ _Harry_ ,” he groans softly as Harry shifts until he’s lowering himself down torturously slow on to Zayn’s cock and Zayn thinks he might just go out of his fucking mind.\ 

“You look so pretty, Harry, should see yourself …” Zayn reaches for the loose curl again, tugging on it harder again, watching as Harry’s face flushes red and he bites his lip. Harry’s eyes are fixed on Zayn’s face, and he’s got a little line between his eyebrows as he concentrates on rocking down slow.

Zayn slides his hand into Harry’s hair, pulling harder on it now and Harry moans, his hands gripping at Zayn’s shoulders, his fingers digging in so hard that Zayn knows he’s going to have bruises on his shoulders tomorrow. 

He can’t care about that when Harry looks like this - like all of the indulgence in the world, and pure sin as he presses down, nearly impossibly tight around Zayn’s cock and Zayn wants to maybe live in this moment forever. 

Harry’s skin is flushing pink down his neck and his eyes are wide and glassy, moss-dark green edges around large black pupils. His hair is sticking to his neck and his face and Zayn can’t stop running his hand through it, pulling and tugging on random strands as Harry starts to rock up and down, riding Zayn’s cock like this is what he’s been put on earth to do, like there’s nothing else in the universe.

“Harry …” Zayn’s voice is low and tight, he feels like he can’t get enough air into his lungs as Harry kisses him again, his mouth hard and insistent against Zayn’s own, quickly getting messy, until he’s just panting and groaning against Zayn’s mouth, his hands roaming restless over Zayn’s skin.

 

He tugs on Harry’s hair again and Harry stills, panting against Zayn’s mouth.

“Zayn .. please …” he whispers right against Zayn’s lips, and Zayn has to close his eyes for a moment; feeling how tight Harry is around him; how his skin feels and his hair tangled through Zayn’s fingers. 

“Please .. please ….”

Zayn nips at Harry’s bottom lip and licks over it to soothe the sting, shifting his hands so they’re digging into Harry’s arse. He traces around Harry’s rim, stretched around his cock and groans as Harry clenches around him, his words lost in his throat and all Zayn can hear now are high, desperate whines as Harry rocks against him faster and faster. 

Zayn wraps one hand around Harry’s cock, barely able to slip it between their bodies, and winds the fingers of his other hand into Harry’s hair, now a messy, thick tangle framing his face moving in and out of the rhythm of Harry himself as he clenches and groans low and long as he spills over Zayn’s hand, coming for what feels like forever to Zayn, even as he thrusts up hard, going over the edge and free-falling down the other side, buried deep inside Harry. 

Harry kisses him again, until they’re both breathless with it and Zayn feels suddenly exhausted. He’s still got a hand tangled in Harry’s hair and he absently starts playing with it, winding and tugging the curls more gently now. Harry makes a pleased noise and shifts slightly, but otherwise not looking inclined to move any time soon. 

Zayn tilts his head back against the couch and studies the chandelier again as Harry curls into him, tucking himself against Zayn as best he can. They’ll need to move soon - have a shower, clean up, get some sleep, but for now …

For now, Zayn closes his eyes, runs his hands down Harry’s long, smooth back, and closes his eyes, enjoying the sensation of Harry’s warm breath against his neck. Luxury, he thinks, vaguely as Harry sighs softly and closes his eyes. Takes some getting used to.


End file.
